Second Chances
by fictiondemon
Summary: When Mr. Gold discovers that Belle is still alive, will he risk everything to be with her, or will he let the chance pass him by in order to protect both of them from the wrath of Regina and possible heart ache from a past best forgotten?
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Once Upon a Time.

This story is meant to take place after the Skin Deep episode. Bear with me on the first scene. I wanted it to be somewhat confusing like a dream. There are also some mature themes alluded to in this chapter as well as more mature content that will be in later chapters.

This is for everyone who no longer wish to wait another moment for these two to be together.

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><p><strong>Second Chances<strong>

**Part I: Sweet Dreams and Monsters**

_Just a dream, just a dream._ She chanted to herself as her eyes traveled over the black dress she wore, a mourning dress laced in front by constricting cords. She was standing in what looked like a large hall of gray stone resembling that of a throne room or a church. Only there were no pews, no alter or throne, the room was completely bare. Gray stone surrounded her on all sides. High windows looked out to a cloudy night sky, the moon every once in a while piercing the darkness. She moved forward and felt something crunch beneath her feet. She looked down on the floor to see it covered with petals, but there was no color to them. No vibrant crimson, only gray, white and black; dead and lifeless. She felt her heart begin to pound, the unconscious part of her mind knowing what was about to happen.

She looked up. He was standing there, his face shadowed by the curled hair that fell over his eyes. He also wore black; leather vest over a black dress shirt. His green-golden skin only slightly luminescent from the struggling light of the moon.

_This is not real. _She told herself.

She turned around, knowing she had to get away. She only came face to face with a gold framed full length mirror. Her heart thudded. She could now see in the reflection that he stood behind her, his face still covered in shadow. He was angry, shouting. But his words were muffled as though she were hearing them from far away.

"_You turned her against me!_"

She saw in the reflection how he reached towards her. She turned back to him then, but she was pushed backwards by an invisible force. She felt the mirror give way behind her, glass shards cracking and splitting from the impact her body had on the fragile reflection.

She expected the shards to cut her, expected to land on their sharp edges when she finally landed. But that never happened. What she landed on was far worse, and she felt her stomach twist in terror when she felt the soft cushion of a bed beneath her back. Before she had any time to gather her senses, he was there, on her, over her. She tried to scream, to push him away.

_No, this never happened! _Her mind screamed.

"Shut up." He snarled, placing a hand over her mouth. Her throat began to burn, forcing her not to speak. Not to scream. She knew it wasn't real, she had had these dreams before. But they never felt real, the images were disjointed, scattered and coming into focus only to suddenly fade away. Sometimes she would be offered a blood red apple, the fruit being forced down her throat until the burning tore at her esophagus, other times they were pills, capsules of medication whose purpose she did not know.

She could feel his hands, clawing at the cords that held her bodice closed.

Her eyes shifted to the side. She saw him standing there, beside the bed, but he was different. His hair was straight, and he was wearing a dark jacket and pants, a black cane held in his hand. He stood as though he were made of stone. She couldn't understand what he was thinking, what he was feeling as her body was stripped bare by the beast that held her down. Her body felt nothing, everything was always dulled and numb. Only her mind could interpret what was happening and make no sense of it.

She no longer struggled against the hand that prevented her from speaking. With her mind barely grasping the images around her, she reached out to him. He stepped back from her reach, his face torn in agony and regret as he turned away from her. Fading into the darkness.

_No. _Her mind protested weakly, _These are not mine. These are not my memories._

There was a sudden flash of blinding light from the darkness and she felt her body seize, struck. Along the right side of her back and thigh, pain sliced and snapped through her. Her skin burned as though it were being scorched with flame and ripped away. Finally, everything turned dark as he mind fell into a deeper slumber than dreams.

...

Henry stared at the pages set out in front of him. He didn't dare look at them at home. Regina could find them at any time. He had found a closet nook at the school where he used a flashlight to look at the papers. It had taken him months to get his hands on them. They had been securely locked away in a box hidden in a floor compartment by Regina's desk. The fact that she had taken extra care to hide them had only made him that much more determined to find out what they were. Henry grinned in satisfaction. It was amazing what kind of videos could be found on the internet, especially ones about picking locks.

He scanned the pages, seeing the faces of people he had never met, and yet they were labeled as citizens of Storybrook. His mind churned, noting that each person was labeled with what seemed to be multiple mental and social disorders. He knew he had to get these pages to Emma, but Regina had kept him under constant surveillance since Emma and Sydney had joined forces. He knew that there was only one person he could trust to get them to her. He gritted his teeth in frustration, hating the fact that he couldn't take part in the investigation. Hopefully soon, he'll have a chance to talk with her, and figure out another secret that Regina was keeping all of Storybrook from finding.

...

Emma and Mary looked over the pages that Henry had given to Mary to deliver. Both of them sat at Mary's dining room table with the pages spread out in front of them; Mary a bit more hesitant about looking at the papers of personal information than Emma was.

"This makes no sense," Emma said, "Why would it be important for Regina to hide these in her home."

"Maybe there's someone that she's trying to protect, keep from the public." Mary offered.

"That wouldn't surprise me, she certainly has a knack for keeping secrets."

Mary grinned as she glanced at another page and frowned, "I remember some of these people. I know that they were undergoing special treatment, but I had no idea that they were being kept here in Storybrook."

"These records belong in the hospital," Emma said, her suspicions on high alert for anything that stood out. The only thing that seemed to stand out the most were the dates. Some of the labeling was either blackened out or obscured and then changed, which made it nearly impossible to pinpoint when certain individuals had actually been committed to the ward. For all she knew they were all patients who had either been released or moved to another facility. Her eyes traveled over a name and she did a double take.

"Look at this," Emma said and Mary leaned over, "Look at the last name."

"French." Mary said in astonishment.

"Moe French. This must be his daughter." Emma remembered the man and his floral business. Emma frowned, thinking back.

"I remember her." Mary whispered, slouching back in her chair.

"You do?" Emma asked.

Mary shook her head a little, "Ya, just now it popped into my head. She was such a nice girl. Loved to read."

"What happened?" Emma asked.

Mary sighed, "She went missing for a while. When she was found she was completely different." She frowned, perplexed.

"Was that why she was committed?"

"It was awful." Mary said, "She tried to take her own life several times. Her fiancé left her. She went out into the middle of the road one night and was hit by a car. I heard that she had stopped speaking after it happened. After that, she was never seen again."

Mary shifted in her seat and stood, somewhat upset, "I really shouldn't be looking at these."

Emma nodded in understanding, "No, of course. I'll have them stored at the station."

Emma put the papers back into the folder. She hesitated on the daughter of Moe French. Emma looked at the image of the girl in the photo. Again, she thought about that night when Mr. Gold had kidnapped Moe.

_"It was your fault, you shut her out!"_

Emma knew she could get into a heap of trouble for this, but something about this didn't settle well with her. If she wanted to find answers without Regina knowing, she was going to have to go to the one person who could give them to her. Someone who was no more scared of Regina than she was.

...

The bell over his shop door jingled, and he sensed who it was before he even turned around.

"Come to buy yourself a trinket Miss Swan?"

"Not exactly," She answered. He turned to find her holding a folder in her hand.

"In that case, what can I do for you?"

"What do you know about the psychiatric ward beneath the hospital?"

He frowned, "Can't say I know much about it? Not very good with hospitals, not my style."

"But you knew Moe French's daughter."

His eyes turned stony, "Miss Swan, what is it you want?"

She clutched the folder close to her chest, steeling her nerves, "Mr. Gold, Moe French's daughter was committed to the ward over several years ago."

She could feel the change more than see it. The air practically crackled with the sudden tension in the room. His hand slightly tensed; knuckles turning white over the handle of his cane. "What?"

Emma sighed, "Don't ask me how I got this?" She placed the folder on the counter and flipped it open. She turned it around for him to see, the photo was small, paper clipped to the corner of a small stack of papers. He didn't look at the rest of the content. He might as well have been blind to them; he only saw the photo. He reached out an unsteady hand and plucked the photo from the folder, holding it in his hand.

"You didn't know?" Emma asked.

Her words seemed to snap him out of whatever reverie he was going through. "You need to leave."

Emma was caught off guard by the sudden dismissal, "But I thought..."

"Leave, Emma." He said, his voice low and deadly.

Something pulled at Emma, a sudden compulsion to get away from him. Slowly, she closed the folder, and walked to the exit. Before she left, she turned back to look at him, "I just thought that you might care to know."

With that, she left. Mr. Gold felt relieved at finally being alone. He felt drained, weak. He looked at the photo as he sank into one of the simple wooden chairs he kept in the back of his shop. His hand gripping the image so tightly that little creases bent the photo. His hand shook, boiling rage burning through him. The heat traveled up his throat, scorched his lungs. There were too many emotions churning inside of him. Fury, relief, pain, emptiness, his first impulse being to get her out and damning the cost, but he knew if he did that, it would cost him the game. He would have played all of his best pieces with nothing left to fight with. He took a deep breath, reigning in his temper. He had to think. Staring forward, he could feel his mind begin to work. Regina was playing a very dangerous game this time, one that he would win no matter what. Even if he had to set the entire chess board on fire.

...

Emma leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee while she heard Mary bustling to get the laundry done. It had been several days since she had told Mr. Gold about the ward. She hadn't heard anything back from him, and no fires had been set recently. She wasn't sure if she should be nervous about that or not. Mary was carrying out a basket of clothes when there was a knock on the door. Shifting her load, Mary opened the door and both women looked up.

"Mr. Gold." Mary said. Emma noticed the packet of papers he had in his left hand. "Miss Blanchard," He nodded before his gaze went to Emma, "Miss Swan. I would like to speak with you."

"Oh, I'll leave you two alone," Mary started to say.

"No, this concerns you as much as it does the sheriff." Mr. Gold said as he came in and shut the door behind him. Both women exchanged a curious look before joining Mr. Gold at the dining room table. Mary put down her load of laundry and grabbed her cup of coffee she had sitting on the kitchen counter.

Mr. Gold sat across from them, leaning his cane against the little table and folding his hands in front of him.

"I fear that I must ask something of you Miss Swan."

Emma smiled, "Does this mean your calling in on your favor?"

"No, this concerns the girl whom you have discovered in the...psychiatric ward beneath the hospital."

"Alright," Emma said, instantly wary. It seemed that none of them, Mr. Gold included, felt comfortable referring to the ward as a place for psychiatric treatment.

"Regina must never know that I made this request of you. I have already spoken to the girls father."

Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise. Moe French had been released from the hospital a week ago. He was making a good recovery, but still had to wear a neck brace from the beating he had taken from Gold. Both men were still paying for their crimes of theft, assault and kidnapping. She could imagine that the sudden meeting must not have been easy for either of them. "How did that go?"

Mr. Gold smirked. "I find I can be very persuasive when I want to be, he sees the benefits to the plan as well as I do and we have met a mutual understanding, despite our confrontations. I'll take care of the details." He brought out the packet of papers and slid them across the table. Emma started flipping through them, frowning when she read what the contract entailed. Even the proper legal documents were included in the packet for the possibility that the patient had been involuntary committed to the ward.

"Why are you doing this?"

Mr. Gold straightened his tie, "The girl was an acquaintance of mine long ago. I know that Regina keeps her locked away under false pretense."

"Why would she do that?" Mary asked, cradling her cup of coffee between her hands.

Mr. Gold looked at her, his eyes intense. "Take a guess."

Emma felt it then, a deeper feeling he didn't want anyone else to see. Somehow, by Regina keeping the girl locked away, she was hurting him. Emma didn't know how. By him coming here and not taking a direct involvement, he was protecting himself from Regina knowing that he had any interest in the matter. Emma closed the packet, "I'll do whatever I can."

He gave her a bitter smile, "Glad we understand each other." He got up to leave and turned when he reached the door, "I have an account available to you should you need any type of reimbursement for your troubles."

Emma had seen the account number and withdrawal information so that the funds were in the name of Moe French. She knew instinctively who the money was for, but she didn't say anything more as he left their home.

...

"Miss Swan, might I ask what you think you are doing?"

Emma turned to see Regina walking towards her as one of the hospital personnel opened the door that led to the underground levels.

"There was a request from the father of one of the patients. Seeing as how her levels of aggression have decreased he's hoping that a change of environment might help her to recover fully." Emma answered without missing a beat.

"I'll be the judge of that Miss Swan. Which patient are you referring to?"

Emma handed the mayor the folder she had acquired, watching Regina's reaction as she opened it. There was barely any change to the mayor's features as she looked upon the contents, but her eyes turned fierce, cold. Even her hands began to tremble in frustration as she snapped the folder shut. If she recognized the files as being similar to the ones that she had been keeping in her home, she gave no further indication of recognition, which gave Emma the answer she needed. Regina was never meant to have the files in the first place, and to admit as such would only cause her trouble.

"I can assure you Miss Swan, this patient will be much safer and taken care of in the environment she is currently in."

"Reports have shown that she has no history of being violent towards others, but she has been here several years now and hasn't spoken a word since the accident. The father believes that it would be best for her to be around people she's familiar with, people that she can talk to and people who can help her."

"I'll speak with the father myself." Regina said as she handed the folder to Emma, instantly dismissing the matter. "This facility has the best specialists working around the clock helping her to recover."

"Everything has already been signed." Emma said as she pulled out a copy of the packet Mr. Gold had given her. She had a feeling that Regina had spoken with the father before; had been responsible for the girl being committed to the ward in the first place.

Regina took the papers, flipping through them with a critical eye. "Where are the original papers?"

"Everything has been stored at the station."

A look of pure aggravation, and even a glimmer of panic, flickered in Regina's dark eyes before her features were once again set into lines of complete indifference. Regina closed the folder and sighed, "Miss Swan, let me advise you, I look out for the best interest of my community. I will not have that jeopardized because you suddenly think yourself eligible for taking care of a mentally unstable young girl."

"This is a personal family matter Madam Mayor. I'm not in any way trying to undermine your authority, otherwise I would have brought this matter to you if I had thought it relevant, but this is purely the request of a father concerned for his only child. Everything will be covered, he just wants to make sure that we give this a chance. If it doesn't work, then I'll concede that this is the best place for her."

"You don't concede to anything Miss Swan. I know I'm right about this." Regina paused for a moment, "If anything should go wrong, I'm holding you responsible."

"Yes, Madam Mayor."

Emma held her breath as Regina started to turn away, but then the mayor turned back, "One last thing." Regina's dark eyes fastened on Emma, "Whatever you do, keep her away from Mr. Gold."

Emma frowned, feigning confusion, "Why do you say that?"

"Oh, I thought you knew." Regina said, a look of satisfaction crossing her features, "Before the patient came here, she was missing for a time. When we found her a few months later, she was struck with depression. She tried to take her own life several times. She was always an unstable girl, but something had happened to make her like this."

"You think Mr. Gold had something to do with it?" Emma asked, not knowing what to believe.

"I'm not saying that he did, I know he did. It's why I keep her here, where he can never find her. I'm trying to protect her from lapsing into the same state she was in when we first found her all those years ago. Heed my advice Miss Swan, if you want what's best for the girl, you'll keep her away from him."

...

Emma sat across from the girl at the dining table. They had found her some clothes and instead of the regular scrub outfit, she was now wearing a loose white t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. She didn't seem to be mentally deficient in any way from what Emma could see, she had told the girl the situation and the patient had seemed to understand what was going on. Emma had been sure to leave out the part where Mr. Gold had had any involvement in her release. The patients blue-gray eyes were sharp, taking in everything around her as though it were the first time she was seeing it. Her hair was a bit mussed, the ends split from not being under the care of proper conditioning for a long while. Emma had had to consult with the nurse about the medication that would need to be administered, but Emma had taken one look at the list of medication and had cut the list to less than half the products. Most of what they had given her were to help her sleep. Emma figured that the dosage could always change should there be a problem.

They still had to have certified medical personnel check in every once in a while, but at least the first step of getting her out of the ward had worked. Mary was able to get some time off of work enough so that both of them could schedule time to keep an eye on the patient for a while until they were sure she was comfortable with staying with them. The girl was currently looking at the scars on her wrist, tracing them and frowning as though the fact that they were there upset and perplexed her. She had other jagged scars on her back and thigh; a result of the car that had hit her on the road.

"So, your name is..." Emma jumped in her seat when the girls hand slapped over the name she was about to read.

Emma looked up. The girl shook her head firmly, an angry frown marring her features.

"Okay, what name would you like to be called?" Emma asked calmly.

For a moment, the girl looked lost, she looked around the room as though wishing to simply pluck a name from thin air. Her gaze focused on Mary, who was snipping a batch of roses to place into a vase. Emma followed her gaze, seeing Mary smell one of the roses before placing it within the glass vase.

Emma looked over to the girl whose features now looked melancholy, "Rose?"

She looked at her, her eyes looking both lighted from within and yet guarded.

"Would you like to be called Rose?"

Again, she looked saddened, but she smiled and nodded.

...

For the first week, Emma could see why there had been such concern about the transition. Rose would mostly stay in her room, she wouldn't speak, and even when they brought her food she would barely touch it. It was like she was hollow inside. It seemed like there was nothing there, but she would sometimes look around her, seeming lost and alone. Like she didn't know where she was. But she never became violent or frustrated and she never tried to hurt herself. She did as she was told, she would sometimes sit with them, but her eyes were vacant. Both Emma and Mary felt discouraged, trying their best to have the girl come out of her shell. But nothing seemed to work. Rose seemed to also have a great deal of trouble sleeping. Emma could sometimes hear her at night wake up, gasping for breath. When they would check on her, she always looked upset and afraid to fall back asleep. Most days she had dark circles under her eyes and a slight redness to them as though she had spent the night crying. Emma was at a loss, she didn't know what to do and she had no idea what Mr. Gold had expected. That Rose would get better? That she would make a hasty recovery? That didn't' seem to be the case.

During one afternoon, Emma went into Rose's room; a spare room that Mary had used as an office before she cleaned it out and turned it into a bedroom with a little portable bed that she had been able to borrow from Granny's Inn. Seeing the girl curled up on the bed buried under the covers facing away from the door, Emma knocked, "May I come in?"

Slowly, Rose nodded, still not turning around to look at her. Emma walked in and went over to the bed, awkwardly sitting down next to her. Emma sat there for a moment, looking at the exposed stone walls of the room and the furniture that had been moved to the edges of the space.

"Look, I get why you would be unhappy here. I don't blame you." Emma looked over to Rose, but she still didn't move from her curled position, "I think it would be pretty difficult to be happy in a place where Regina Mills is the mayor."

Rose flinched.

Emma sighed, "Despite what you've gone through, or what you think, you have friends here. People who want to help you. We all have things in our pasts that we regret, or don't want to remember." Emma paused, "Henry is my biological son, but I gave him up for adoption."

Rose shifted then, looking over to her. "Henry now belongs to Regina. I can't tell you how much I regret what I did, because I know he's not happy. Mary is in love with someone whose married." Emma smiled, "Henry seems to think that they're meant for each other though. He thinks that everyone here is trapped, that everyone is a character from a story." Rose shifted so that she was once again turned away.

"We all try to deal with life the best way that we can, but this isn't how you do it." Emma said, "You can't just shut life out and expect it to just change and get better, if you want things to change, you need to make it happen." Emma got up to leave, hoping that she didn't sound too harsh, but knowing that it was necessary. Something needed to happen for Rose to snap out of this state. She was depressed, but there was still life inside of her, Emma could sense it, and she just hoped that something of what she said would get through to her.

...

The next day, Mary and Emma were sitting at the dining table when they heard the door to Rose's room open. Neither of them said anything as she went to the kitchen where breakfast was prepared. She fixed herself a plate and sat across from them. She had changed from her pajamas into a light pink peasant skirt and a brown long sleeved top. Her hair was partially pulled back, revealing her features that she usually would keep hidden with the thick strands. She looked over to them and gave them a small smile. Picking up her fork, she started to eat a healthy portion of food.

As the days went by, Rose would watch them intently as though learning everything for the first time. She developed a taste for coffee in the morning, and even became addicted to vacuuming the house. She seemed fascinated with the refrigerator and soon became a heavy user of the television and the internet. She researched news articles of Storybrook, anything that she could find, almost as though she were trying to make up for an entire lifetime of memories. The atmosphere in the home had finally turned, Mary and Emma looking at one another in relief when they would catch Rose smiling about something she saw on the television or the internet. She loved watching musicals; music quickly became one of her passions and she would more often than not be seen with an mp3 player and a pair of ear phones on. She still had trouble sleeping, but Mary had been correct about another thing, the woman loved to read. She went through entire novels in one day and would stay up most nights reading them. She loved the Jane Austen series and any other book they had in the home. Emma and Mary so desperately wanted to give her a chance to go outside, but after discussing the possibilities of Regina's accusations, the chance of Rose meeting Mr. Gold was too great of a risk. Especially since she seemed to be well on her way to a full recovery. They tried to bring her more books from the library, and tried to coax her into speaking, but no matter how hard they tried in that area, she still would not, and could not speak a word.


	2. Chapter 2

I added an extra scene to the end of the first chapter. It might seem a little rushed, but it seemed right to end the chapter on a more positive note.

I also want to be on the safe side and say that I do not own _Grimm Fairy Tales _or _Sleepless in Seattle. _

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><p><strong>Part II: I'm Glad You Came and Sent Me On My Way, but I Remember Your Name<strong>

"Termites!" Mary said incredulously.

The exterminator shrugged, "You're actually lucky, you caught them before they had a chance to breed. Those things you saw flying around were the male and female termites that haven't shed their wings yet. They haven't gotten a chance to tunnel under your house."

"How long will it take to get rid of them?" Mary asked as she wrapped her robe around herself tightly to ward off the chill. All three of the women were standing outside speaking with the exterminator as twilight descended on Storybrook. None of them seemed too eager to go back inside now that they found out termites were beginning to nestle in their house.

The man scratched his grizzly chin, "Usually takes about a day to do a proper extermination, I'd say a few days just to be sure though."

Mary sighed and shuddered, "I think I might stay over at the inn instead." Mary looked over to Rose and Emma, "Will you guys be okay at the house?"

Emma shook her head, "I draw the line on bugs, I'll try to find another place to stay for a couple nights." The only concern Emma had was that with her criminal record and Rose's history, she worried that neither of them would be able to stay at the inn establishment.

Mary went to get a couple of her things out of the house while the exterminator wrote up some paperwork. With the large truck out front, a few people had stopped to see what was going on. Emma looked over to Rose, but the girl seemed to be perfectly calm with an afghan wrapped around her shoulders. "I take it you don't like termites either."

Rose shook her head and shuddered, returning Emma's smile. She had become so much more animated and expressive since they had first brought her here. Emma was so caught up in thinking about their accomplishments over the last few weeks that she had hardly noticed the dark car pulling up to the sidewalk. Rose looked over to and did a double take. Emma heard Rose gasp, and she followed the girls gaze to see Mr. Gold stepping out of his black car, his eyes set on the house. Rose put a hand over her mouth, looking away from him and then back over; unable to keep her gaze away. Emotion flashed in her gray blue eyes, complete shock and disbelief evident on her face. But then, just as instantly, her expression changed. Emma was immediately taken aback by the girl's sudden shift in expression. She no longer looked stricken as Emma had expected her to be. No, her whole face had flushed red and her eyes sparked with fury as she glared over at the man. Her chin had tilted up defiantly and her lips were pressed into a thin line. Her hand fell away from her face, both hands now curling and uncurling into fists as though she wanted to run over and punch him in the face.

He looked over at them and froze, Rose turned away and crossed her arms under her chest with a look of pure disgust and frustration.

"You're not going to attack him are you?" Emma asked.

Rose looked over to her in surprise, but she shook her head.

Emma raised her eyebrows, "Are you sure?"

Rose smirked; giving Emma a sidelong look with an evil glint in her eye. Her eyes flashed, looking more gray than their usual blue. She shook her head.

Emma smirked as well, an idea forming in her mind. Immediately, she tried to shove the thought aside. The last thing she wanted to do was put Rose into a situation where she could get hurt or end up hurting someone. Then all of their progress over the last few weeks would be for nothing. But at the same time, she remembered how Rose had been when she first came to them, vacant, empty. Then she had been happy, even seeming to be content. But never like this. She had never seen her angry, or even this incredibly passionate before. On top of that, she had never met another person beside herself who hadn't looked upon Mr. Gold with fear and distrust. No, this was much more than a simple dislike for a person.

"Wait here for a minute?" Emma asked as she started walking over to Mr. Gold. He eyed her approach warily, but Emma simply smiled. He could have no idea what she had in store for him.

...

"You have truly lost your senses." Mr. Gold growled.

Emma grinned as she took a swig of her beer, "I told you, this is the best alternative until the termites are taken care of."

He looked up at her from his seated state on the plush upholstered Victorian chair in the front room by the entryway, not even beginning to comprehend how he suddenly found himself in this position. "You and I both know that is not true."

"It's only for a few days." Emma said sitting across from him. "But there are a few things I need to have cleared up before I make a sure decision."

He glared at her, "Shouldn't you have thought about that before you brought her into my home."

"You said that you had had an acquaintance with her a while ago, exactly what kind of acquaintance was it?"

He didn't answer her, simply stared.

"Fine, then I've got another one for you." Emma said, serious, "Regina said that before Rose was committed, she was gone for several months. She didn't say as much, but she made it sound like you had something to do with her disappearance and her decline. Is it true?"

Something dark shifted in his eyes, but still he was silent, his fingers folded over the top of his cane. He got up and turned away from her, leaning against his cane as though he would simply leave the room.

Emma sighed, admitting defeat. She should have known that this wouldn't have worked out in the first place. "Fine, we'll find someplace else to stay." Emma said, also rising from her seat.

Mr. Gold finally spoke, his words low as he turned back to face her, "Alright, perhaps I might have had something to do with it." Then his tone changed, turned mocking. "I am after all the monster of this piece, anything that comes my way will surely be torn apart."

His eyes shifted behind Emma and his brow cleared. Emma looked to see Rose standing by the entrance, her eyes shimmering. Emma knew she wasn't happy about being here anymore than Mr. Gold, but she hadn't put up any fight in coming, and neither had he. Rose's eyes shifted to Emma as though just realizing that she was also there. She turned away from them and went up the fold back staircase to the guest room on the second floor of the house.

When Emma turned back to Mr. Gold, he had changed. He seemed drained, defeated. "You have no idea the risk your taking by bringing her here." He thought of Regina, how she would surely know about Rose staying in his home.

"Right now, Regina is the last thing I'm worried about." Emma said, guessing his thoughts. "I'm thinking about Rose, what might be best for her."

His brow darkened, turning into a fierce scowl, "And what if she tries to kill herself again Miss Swan? Could you live with the choice you have made if that should be the outcome?" He had seen the scars on her wrists, and had felt nausea roil within his stomach. He knew that she was not responsible for them, that they were another background Regina had given to her to fit the role of suicide. But it only reminded him of the last life, what had happened to her. There were several scenarios as to why she was still alive, but it didn't make him any less terrified that she would escape this life now that he had just found her after all these years.

"She's not the type." She stated with absolute confidence.

He frowned, "How could you be...?"

"Trust me, I've known a lot of different types of people in my life. I'll admit she's depressed, I'll admit she's lonely, but whatever choices she made in the past, she is not making those same choices again."

He seemed somewhat put at ease by this, there was of course the possibility that Regina had lied to him. He had contemplated it the moment he had heard that Belle was being kept within the ward. He had only been able to believe that Belle was gone because he couldn't find her within the future. He could foretell events more than twenty-eight years from now, but no matter how hard he had looked, he could not find her. That was the only reason he had believed her to be gone. But once he had heard about her being committed to the ward, he knew that she was there, that she was still alive. But he had never allowed it to cross his mind that they could simply continue from where they had left off in their past lives. His only motive was in getting her out of captivity; to just give her a chance to have a life in this cursed world that he had created. He knew that anything more would only give Regina more incentive to hurt her.

He grimaced, clenching his jaw but unable to stop the question from being asked. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I see how she looks at you. Trust me that is not a girl who has been torn apart by a monster, that is a woman scorned. There is no chance she would still be this angry unless she had some unresolved feelings about what happened between the two of you."

...

Mr. Gold tried to not dwell too much on what Miss Swan had said, in fact, he tried not to think too much about anything. He tried to avoid his new house guests as much as possible, and for whatever reason, Regina had not shown up to confront them. He instead focused on his work. Whenever he did by chance run into Rose, he avoided her eyes, turned away. Several times he had seen her watch television, apparently discovering that he had more channels to offer than Miss Blanchard. He noticed books missing within his personal library, primarily his aquired collection of _Grimm Fairy Tales_. She even bothered to clean his home a bit, but the action only seemed to bring back bitter memories. At least, that was what he thought, until he found a load of his laundry laid out. White button-up dress shirts, now dyed pink. At that point, he couldn't help himself, he had smiled at her small effor to irritate him.

There were a few things that still puzzled him however, her obvious animosity towards him only being one of them. He awoke one night, an earie light coming from down stairs. Frowning, he wondered what she could possibly be watching so late at night. From what Emma had told him, she had had trouble sleeping.

"Good to see that she still likes to clean up." Emma mentioned one morning as she sipped coffee. Mr. Gold sat down with a cup of his own at the center island of his kitchen as he gave Emma a pointed look.

"Yes, she has always been prone to doing that." He took a sip of his coffee and had to force himself to choke it down. He had always been used to having coffe black, but the drink in his hand had more creamer and sugar than he could possibly stomach.

He looked at the cup in disgust, "This tastes terrible."

Emma frowned, "Mine tastes fine."

There was movement behind them and they both turned to see Rose carrying a towell and a set of clothes, looking as innocent as ever.

He turned back to see Emma smiling into her cup. He felt his anger churn, he hated being laughed at. Hated how he had only accepted such treatment from Belle, and was still tolerating it from her when he never did from anyone else.

"I suppose you're enjoying this?" He said coldly.

"I'll admit it is a bit entertaining." Emma said honestly.

He grabbed his cane, giving her a level look that caused her smile to falter, "Don't for one minute think that you understand me Miss Swan. You know nothing. As far as her recovery I congratulate and thank you, but as far as our personal lives, stay out of it. I did not ask for your service in an attempt to play matchmaker between us."

Emma looked at him, her jaw set with determination, "Despite what you think, love is not a weakness."

He ground his teeth. "That's simply a matter of opinion my dear. After all, if it hadn't been for love of your boy, you wouldn't have made such drastic decissions that nearly cost you your job."

He had struck a nerve, he could tell by the sudden tension that set in her shoulders, "Is that what this is about to you, losing power and status?"

Damn, she had struck too close, "As I have shown you first hand, if you want to win, you have to know how to get away with breaking the rules."

"Matter of opinion," Emma said to him, turning his words back at him. "Sounds to me like your just letting Regina win becuase you don't want her to have another way of hurting you. That's not winning Mr. Gold, that's giving up before you even have a chance to start."

He smirked, "How very poetic of you, now if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

He exited the kitchen, but not before he heard the scurrying of footsteps retreating and heading up the stairs.

...

Emma had to go to the station for a while to work on some paperwork. Mr. Gold had mostly locked himself away in his office, avoiding the other guest within his home. He was very eager to have them both gone. But for now, he could here Rose moving about the house. After debating a moment, he went to the kitchen, not seeing any reason why he should refrain from moving about his home as he pleased just because she was there. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, he filled it with water from the sink. Taking a drink, he once again found himself puzzling over Rose's behavior towards him. Was the reason behind her clear dislike for him have something to do with the past Regina had woven for them in this life, or did it maybe have something to do with their former lives?

He was still mulling over the possibilities when Rose walked into the kitchen. She hesitated, but then she tilted up her chin and proceeded with what she was doing. He pretended not to notice her as she carried a batch of flowers to the row of dark wood cupboards. She had always had a fancy for flowers and floral designs, he reflected on how she had loved decorating his castle with them. Did she perhaps remember portions of her former life that carried into this one, such as her tendency to read and clean? No, he would not fool himself, there were others within Storybrook who still had the traits they had had when they were within their former lives, it never meant they remembered anything. That was a particularity of the spell. It always affected those except the one who cast it... and the one who had created it. That had been a lovely technicality that he had never bothered sharing with the Queen.

Rose opened one of the cupboards, shifting around the contents in search for a vase. She closed one cupboard and opened another, and froze. Gold frowned when he suddenly felt his stomach churn in dread. He knew what was in that cupboard, and he knew that was what her eyes were fastened on. The flowers fell from her limp hand, making soft scraping sounds against the edge of the counter and floor.

He stared at her, not breathing as he sat down the glass he had been holding. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the cup, but she stepped away from it, breathing raggedly. She suddenly reached for it, holding it, turning it within her hands and tracing the chip on the edge of the rim. A look of torment, loss, confusion, agony, all stealing over her features at once. Seeming to suddenly sense him, she turned to look over to him, her eyes revealing everything she so desperately wanted to hide. When the stillness between them broke, she tried to beat a hasty retreat from the kitchen, placing the cup on the counter so quickly that it teetered and rolled precariously on the surface. But he caught up to her, grabbing her arm and forcing her to look at him. Tears brimmed in her eyes, but he was too angry to let them have any affect on him.

The hit was unexpected. He felt the sting and sudden burn on his face from the slap she had given him. When he looked up at her steadily, her eyes shined a dark blue from her unshed tears, looking more hurt and confused then he had ever remembered seeing her.

"You remember everything, don't you?" He accused her, his voice laced with anger, ignoring the tingling burn that was settling on the side of his face.

She look panicked, terrified and livid as she tried to twist out of his grasp, but he only tightened his grip. She thought about the chipped cup in the cupboard and her escape turned into another offense, she struck at him with curled fists, trying to hit him, hurt him. The blows seemed to not affect him as he grabbed her wrists. She felt tears sting her eyes and burn down her cheeks. Her mouth opened as though to scream, but her throat tightened and burned, forcing the sound to never have a chance to escape.

"Stop it!" He snapped in irritation.

_Why did you keep_ _it? _She wanted to scream, she had never wanted to talk more than in that moment, she was so confused, lost. Her throat burned, constricting and keeping the words locked inside of her. _Why did you keep it?_

"Why won't you speak?" He spat, giving her a shake, "Answer me!"

She looked up at him, and he could see the vulnerability there. The lost look as she searched his face for something; what he was not sure. There breathing suddenly stilled, as though in that moment they both realized how close they stood, how he held her with their faces mere inches apart.

"Hey!"

Both Mr. Gold and Rose turned to see Emma standing by the front door with a bag of groceries.

"What's going on here?" She asked, giving Rose the opportunity to yank her arms free from his hold and hurry to her room.

...

When Emma found out that Mr. Gold hadn't harmed Rose in any way, she had let the matter drop, but not until after she had seen the chipped cup lying on its side atop the counter. After that, her eyes took on a look of understanding, a look that was more perceptive than Mr. Gold would have liked. That night, he couldn't sleep. Emma and Rose would be leaving tomorrow. The thought was just as much of a relief as it was a torment. Questions seemed to form and sizzle out within his mind. Somehow, Rose remembered something of their past lives. He had no idea how much she remembered, or even if she had simply seen something from her past when she had seen the chipped cup. No, he immediately scratched the idea. Even though she couldn't speak, her face had given her emotions away completely. He thought of her face; her beautiful face twisted in agony as though he had ripped out her heart. He flinched away from the memory. He had never seen her cry before, not even when he had cast her from his home. With a sigh of frustration, he threw off the sheets and got out of bed, his feet hitting the cold floor as he deftly reached for his cane. Wearing his black silk pajamas, he threw on a black robe and made his way down to the kitchen. He stopped, noticing the light coming from the television in the other room.

But that wasn't what had made his heart stop momentarily. Faintly, he could hear her, laughing softly at something that was on the television. The volume was set on low, barely audible from the kitchen. As though his limbs were being pulled by invisible strings, he went forward.

He walked in to see her with a bowl of popcorn in her lap, feet curled beneath her on the couch. She wore a pair of plaid pajamas, the fabric seeming too big for her frame. He looked at the screen, an old black and white picture was playing with heavy slapstick comedy. He hesitated, intending to turn around and leave, but she had sensed him there. She turned her head, the smile that had been on her lips instantly dropping. Instead, she scowled at him and turned back to the screen. Even now she irritated him. Denying him any explanation for her behavior or even a glimpse of her being happy.

He went to the couch, sitting on the opposite end as he swiped up the controller; changing the feed to a sales channel that advertised an assortment of antiques. The controller was plucked from his grasp as she turned it back to what she had been originally watching. Like a pair of children, he grabbed it back from her, switching it to what he intended to watch.

"My house." He told her as she glared bloody murder at him, "My rules."

She sat there for a minute, stewing as she ground popcorn between her teeth. A ghost of a smile passed over his lips. He had to admit that he preferred her anger immensely to her tears. Something flew mere inches in front of his face; watching it miss him, he realized that it was a few kernels of popcorn. Too late in realizing the distraction, she ripped the controller out of his grasp and randomly pressed a button before tossing the controller over the backside of the couch. The controller clunked against the floor and skidded to the far side of the room. He could only stare at her, feelings of frustration and amusement warring with each other inside him.

"Oh, that was incredibly mature." He said sarcastically.

She stuck her tongue out at him before returning her gaze to the television. She gasped, her hand pressing to her heart as a dreamy smile graced her lips. He turned to see what she had turned to, and groaned in agony.

"What is it with women and this film?" Mr. Gold muttered. Over 600 channels to randomly choose, and she happened to catch the one playing _Sleepless in Seattle_.

"Shh!" She told him, causing him to look over to her. She hadn't spoken, but it was the closest thing to words she had uttered since she had left the ward. She was staring at the screen languorously, a small smile pulling at her lips as Meg Ryan listened to the radio while Tom Hanks told the radio host about how much his wife had meant to him, how empty everything had become once she had died. How it had felt the first time he had touched her.

_It was like magic._

Unconsciously, Mr. Gold thought about the first time he had held Belle in his arms, catching her as she pulled the drapes from the windows. The moment he had touched her, he knew. Something had shot through his system wherever he had touched her. It had felt like magic, but not the kind he was used to manipulating. This had been a different magic, warm like liquid fire, heating him from his usual feeling of icy numbness and indifference. Even then he had known, he had been powerless to stop whatever it was that had passed between them. Viciously, he tore his thoughts away from the memory. None of it mattered now, nothing had really changed. Allowing anything to continue between them in this world was pure folly, even if it was like being handed a second chance. He would never give Regina the satisfaction of having that advantage over him, never again.

_That's not winning Mr. Gold, that's giving up before you even have a chance to start._

He shook his head, banishing the nuisance of a thought, _Damn coward_, he thought to himself, _It's the only lifestlye I know_.

...

Rose had eventually fallen asleep on the couch. Mr. Gold had sat through the whole film with her, despite their being a few akward moments pertaining to love and the like. Gold had become disconcerted when film came to the part where the father had woken up to find his son gone, disapeared; finding out that his boy had taken a flight to New York. It reminded him too much of his own son; one day he was there, the next, he was gone. He hadn't even had the comfort to know where he had gone to. The future of his son had been just as unreadable as when he had heard that Belle had taken her own life.

He had looked over to her to find her looking at him, sadness and compassion creasing her brow. He didn't need to use of magic to understand what she was thinking. She was trying so hard to be angry, but there was still a part of her that wanted to comfort him. He could tell, see it in her eyes and in her face. How was it possible? That after all he had done, everything he was responsible for but didn't want to be, that she could possibly still look at him like that? Unable to offer him anything else, she offered him some popcorn, dispelling the strange moment.

It was a strange thing, he had felt content with just simply sitting there with her. Despite her obvious dislike for him, and his obvious distrust of her, they had sat there for several hourse, simply sharing time and space. A couple feet from each other, seperated from so many things being unsaid. Both sharing a lifetime of memories and yet knowing that they could do nothing to change the sitatuion. When the movie had ended and she had fallen asleep, he had sat longer than he should, watching her as she slept like he was some type of lovesick fool. The popcorn bowl lay empty on the floor, her hands curled beneath her chin, her head nestled on the arm of the couch. Her mouth was slightly parted as she breathed evenly. He had picked up the afghan draped over the back of the couch; leaning heavily on his good leg, he had stood and draped the cloth over her.

His hand lingered on the curve of her should for a moment, the warmth of her already seeping through the fabric and into his fingers. He wondered what she dreamed of that made her look so at peace. It was as though he could simply lean down and brush his lips to hers, awaking her like in a fairy tale. But he knew better; he was no hero. He hated how she had been right, how her last words to him had haunted him, even in this life. He should have known what would have happened. He had cursed them both by his decissions. Everything came with a price, even the rejection of True Loves Kiss. He straightend away from her, the rememberence of the kiss snapping him out of reverie. He couldn't think about it, wouldn't think abou it. He grabbed his cane and left to return to bed, noticing how the smallest hint of light was beginning to show itself over the horiozen and paint colors through the stained glass. The next morning, both Emma and Rose had left; moving back in with Mary.

The days following their stay, he would always see Rose with either Emma or Mary, eating out, going to see a movie. They mostly took her to the library, spending hours at a time looking at all of the books. Seeing her was like a torture, but he knew it was necessary. He and Regina had reached a stalemeate, not knowing what the move of the other would be now that Rose was beginning to socalize again, becoming a part of the society. They were both biding their time, waiting.

...

Rose and Mary were looking in a window of a little china shop. Rose simply loved the delicate tea cups, designs of floral and color bursting on the small pieces of ceramic. She loved the Royal Albert Country Rose Chintz and the Russian tea cups with designs like Anastasia and Victorian Pattern. Rose breathed in, loving how the cold stung her nose; loving the smell of moisture on the cement. The light breeze tugged at her white cotton peasant skirt, her beige boots and maroon peacoat warding off the chill. Though the cups were exquisite, she couldn't help but think of the little chipped cup nestled in the cupboard at Mr. Gold's house. As quickly as the thought entered her mind, she dashed it away. She didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to think about anything but the life she had now. It might not be the life she had made for herself, but it was her own. She had originally resented it. But that was before. Before, she had only seen the inside of a pale stoned cell. Had only experienced the isolation of being alone, being forced to eat, being forced to take medication that made her mind lethargic. Before, she had not been allowed to see the possibilities. Everything had changed now. The nightmares she used to have, blurring between reality and memories forced onto her consciousness, were gone. She hadn't had a bad dream ever since the last night she had spent in his home.

She had the possibility of a new life, a new beginning. Even with the thought of that, she couldn't help but sigh. She wished that she could regain her speech. It had been so long since she had last spoken. Ever since she got here and awoken within her new prison, her voice had been gone. No matter how hard she tried, it was like some kind of barrier was preventing her from forming words. She shook her said, saddened. It was all a part to be played. She had been given this character with no lines, and there was nothing she could do to change that.

Rose looked down the street as Mary admired a cup with a design of blue Cobalt Lace. Rose felt her heart stop and then thud against her ribs. He was walking down the street, leaning heavily on his cane for support as he came to an intersection. Rose felt her feet moving, her stomach roiling in dread. No one seemed to notice the car, something about it was off, it was swerving slightly, ever so slightly, moving strangely as though the driver didn't quite have control over it. No one noticed, only a few people looked at it curiously.

Gold. The word formed on her lips, but no sound escaped. She heard Mary behind her, calling her. Not knowing why she was running.

"Gold." The word cracked, barely a whisper. She felt her throat tighten and begin to burn, as though someone were trying to choke her. He paid her no heed; he hadn't heard her. A couple people seemed to notice the truck. Why wasn't it slowing down? It seemed to be moving faster. She was so close, nearly to the edge of the side walk and turning onto the street, how fast was the car moving? How could he not see it coming towards him? He wasn't paying attention. Her heart thundered, blood roaring in her ears.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" She screamed, part of her words drowned out as the car viciously honked it's horn. He wouldn't be fast enough, not with his bad leg, the car was too close.

He turned, looking at her in bewilderment as she barreled into him. Pushing him out of the way. She felt the air get knocked out of her lungs as they both landed on the cement. Her body shook, adrenaline and the sprint down the street making her feel lightheaded. He was beneath her, warm, alive, his heart was beating beneath her fist. She leaned up, seeing people gather. The car had stopped suddenly, swerving and coming to a jerky halt. She felt Rumpelstiltskin move beside her, but her brain was feeling blurry around the edges. Heart still pounding from the exertion, she felt herself drift into unconsciousness.

...

The next couple days passed by in a haze, her mind focusing in and out. She was in a hospital and she had felt dread creep through her veins. Images of her prison, the one with dark stone and the other with pale walls piercing her groggy brain.

"She's not well."

"She saved his life, who cares what she called him."

"I didn't hear what she said."

"The driver was having a stroke... no control over the truck."

"We'll see what happens when she wakes up."

There were so many voices. Emma? Mary? Regina? Where was he, was he alright? She drifted again, her mind turning dark.

...

She started to regain consciousness again, she opened her eyes. At first she saw a dark figure standing over her. Blurry around the edges. She blinked, the image coming into focus. Suddenly, everything was in sharp focus, the veil that had been over her seemed to lift. He was standing there, leaning against the glass wall. Dressed in dark colors, a dark purple dress shirt under his jacket, cane held in front of him. He stared at her, neither of them saying anything.

Rose turned onto her side, facing away from him. Tears unexpectedly filling her eyes and her heart twisting in her chest. Her throat burned, but not as it had before, it now ached to say the words she had to say. Words that needed to be between them.

"You gave her the spell that put us here."

Rumpelstiltskin felt like he had taken a kick to the gut, of all the things she could have said, he had not been expecting this.

"What?"

"I was cleaning your castle one day, and I came across a manuscript." He could hear the tears she was trying to hold back. "I read it."

"When I woke up in this town, I knew. I knew what had happened. But I shouldn't have. I remembered everything but the life I was to have here." Even now she remembered the tower, the days upon days of being locked away. Only to wake up in another prison; one with pale painted walls and steel doors.

She raised her arms and looked at the scars on her wrists, "I woke up with these. I had no idea what I was supposed to do, it was like being placed into a dream where your supposed to act a certain way, but I had no idea what part I had to play or what my lines were." She closed her eyes, "They kept telling me I had tried to commit suicide, saying how I was a danger to society and would be better protected in solitary confinement."

"Why didn't you say something?" He asked her, not being able to help how angry his voice sounded. As though it were her fault for suffering in this life.

"I couldn't." She said, but then she admitted, "There would have been no point to even trying, nothing has changed. Mostly everyone here is just as miserable as they were back home."

He hated seeing her like this. There was no passion inside of her, none of that fire he knew she possessed. He didn't know who to blame, who he blamed more for this change in her. His anger boiled at the injustice, at the foul mess that he found himself in. "Perhaps then, you and I have more in common than I had originally thought." He said darkly.

"I am nothing like you," She whispered fiercely, "I never blamed my father for what happened to me. He might have shut me out, but no one has ever hurt me as much as you have." She knew what he had done, how he had kidnapped the man who was her father. Emma had talked to Mary about it one night when they had thought she was asleep, but Rose had listened, she had always been listening.

He felt it, like a knife twisting in his heart. He couldn't breath, couldn't form words.

"I was so foolish," She whispered, thinking of their kiss they had shared in their past lives. "I was so blinded and foolish to think that it would be that easy for you to change. Turns out that nothing has. Now, instead of being a monster with an empty heart, your just a man with a horrible one."

"Belle..."

He saw her flinch away from him, away from the name he called her. "Just leave."

He couldn't get out of there fast enough, he couldn't stand it. He hadn't wanted to feel this way ever again. He passed by Regina, something on his face must have given him away.

When she had first heard the news that Rose had spoken, she had been livid. But now, she smiled, her slow smirk of a smile like the cat who had just lapped up all of the cream.

"Mr. Gold. Leaving so soon?"

He schooled his features back into his usual coolness, he would never had gotten as far as he had without a good poker face.

"I hardly see any reason for me to stay."


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III: Stronger and Part of Me, but I Want You All to Myself**

Rose stood on tip-toe to shelf the book that had been returned. She looked back at the stack she held in her arms; reading the code on the bottom of one of the spines. It had been several weeks since she had been in the hospital. She had been terrified of her fate, but somehow, she had been able to get out with the help of Emma and Mary. Regina had not been pleased with the situation and had been very vehement on keeping Rose at the hospital. The final step to freedom had been when her father had visited her. Neither of them had spoken, but when he saw her, tears had formed in his eyes, shame and regret evident in his features.

They spoke for a while, him apologizing to her for all that had happened, all that he had put her through. She had expected to feel resentment, injustice, but instead, she had felt nothing but understanding. Forgiveness. She had never really blamed her father for how she had suffered within this life or from the one before. They had spoken several times since then, making up for the time they had lost, and the bad memories that refused to fade.

After that, everything started moving so fast that she could hardly keep track. She had found a job as a library assistant and had moved out of Mary's home. She had a small place of her own now, no longer dependent on her father or any man. Regina's attitude towards her had taken a complete turn and she had even invited Rose to a gathering at the town hall building. Even though she seemed genuinely cordial, Rose knew that there was another motive behind her kind smile. Rose was always on her guard with her. Even from before when they had first met, Rose had always felt that there was a need to stay away from the woman. She knew better now; she should have listened to her intuition instead of her feelings.

Doing her best to adopt the life that the Queen had created for her, Rose pieced together things to make herself seem like any other citizen of Storybrook. As the days passed, she realized that she was happy. She loved the modern wonders of this world, and she was happy with the life she had made for herself. She knew that without a doubt. Or at least, it was closest thing to happiness that she would ever hope to find. There was still a small part of her that was empty; it seemed to grow whenever she saw Mr. Gold on the street, acting completely indifferent to her, or when she happened to be passing close to his shop.

"Hello." A small voice said up to her, waking her from her thoughts. Rose looked down, seeing a little boy with brown hair looking up at her. She had seen him with Regina on several occasions. He was her adopted son. Emma's child who thought that they were all characters from a story.

She stepped down from her stepping stool, straightening out her white peasant skirt that she had worn with a dark blue V-neck knit sweater. She greeted him with a warm smile. "It's nice to finally meet you Henry."

"Likewise," Henry said, curling his hands over the straps of his backpack on his little shoulders as he looked at her.

"Was there something that I can help you find?"

He thought for a moment, "Do you have any of _Grimm's Fairy Tales_?"

Rose frowned, knowing that the library had a sorry selection of fairytale novels available.

"I don't think we do." she told him sadly, and he looked disheartened.

"How about this," She told him as she leaned down as though discussing a conspiracy, "Why don't we pull all the books we can find on fairytales, and I'll tell you all about the _Grimm Fairy Tales_."

His face practically lit up from within, "You've read it?"

Rose grinned, "Twice."

...

They pulled the books from the shelves on any fairytales that they could find. The small collection was set on a table in back for them to sit at and go through. Business was slow during this time in the afternoon, and the elderly librarian woman had given them permission to use the back table as long as they were quite. Rose told bits and pieces of the tales that the Grimm's wrote about, watching as he leaned forward at certain parts, sitting at the very edge of his seat. Both of them marveled at the underlying darkness within the stories though they still ended happily. Of course, they were both making comparisons to another life that neither of them could acknowledge as being real. He was even as baffled as Rose had been when he found out that in the Grimm version, Snow White hadn't been awaken with a kiss, but simply that her casket was being moved and the piece of poison apple fell out of her mouth, causing her to wake.

He then sighed as they flipped through the books, "None of these have the same stories that I was looking for."

"What kind of stories did you have in mind?" Rose asked him.

He shrugged, "I had this book about all of the classic fairytales, but I lost it. Only...they weren't like the ones that we have here at the library, or the ones that the Grimm brothers wrote about."

Rose felt her fingers go numb as she flipped through the pages of one of the books. Her heart started to pound as her memory served another small piece of conversation that Emma had shared with her. The book that Henry had lost; all of the stories were meant to be the ones of everyone that had been cursed. Everyone she knew.

"I know," She said, causing him to look up at her, "Why don't you tell me about the stories from your book. Thinking about it might help you to remember it better. Even people in ancient Greece would remember entire stories and tell them regularly so that they would never forget them." Her mind started to churn, question. How much did the book reveal about the people inside of it? Would even such a character as Rumpelstiltskin have a part within the book?

"That might work," But then he looked at her, his eyes seeming to be much more perceptive than a normal boy his age. "Which story would you like to hear?"

Her resolve wavered, would he catch on to her motives and tell Regina about it? Rose sighed, shaking off the idea. Emma had said that he was not like his mother, he was always eager to help the people in Storybrook, even if it meant meeting the dissatisfaction of his mother. Even now, sitting with him, she could sense the goodness within him and trusted him instinctively.

She smiled at him, a touch of sadness in her eyes, "Why don't you tell me...about Rumpelstiltskin. Before he was powerful; when he was just a man."

He frowned in confusion, "You want to hear about Rumpelstiltskin?"

Rose shook her head, her concern returning, "Only if you want to, you could tell me another story if you like."

"It's okay," Henry reassured her, "I think I remember most of it."

With that, he began to tell her the tale of Rumpelsiltskin, before he was powerful, when he had been just a man. And how his story had ended.

...

It had taken force of sheer will to make herself attend the little gathering that night at the town hall. She had dressed with her mind elsewhere, having to change several times before deciding on a simple blue dress with no sleeves and a square neck line. She threw a maroon peacoat over the ensemble and slipped on a simple pair of red pumps before leaving her home. Now she stood with a glass of red wine in her hand, feeling out of place surrounded by people that she knew, and yet didn't know.

She no longer knew what to think. She was furious. She felt cheated and upset. At the same time, she had felt incredibly sympathetic and curious. She had listened to the story of Rumpelstiltskin attentively, before he was cast as the Dark One. The description of him, of his shame at his cowardice and desperate drive to protect his son. How he had been ostracized and eventually hated by his only child for what he had become. He had wanted so badly to use his powers for good, but every odd had been against him and his heart had changed. She kept seeing him as a man, powerless, friendless, and then as the Dark One, confident, mocking and bitter at how the world had treated him.

Her heart had twisted inside of her at the tale. Her mind was at war with her feelings, making her feel like she was being pulled into two separate directions. When Henry had seen how upset she was by the tale, his eyes had widened, knowing.

"I never got to thank you for saving my life." A smooth accented voice said from beside her shoulder. Rose felt her heart begin to hammer even as she tried to put on a look of cool indifference.

"Don't mention it." She said, not being able to meet his eyes just yet until she had more control over herself.

Mr. Gold raised his glass, "I'd ask you to dance, but I fear I'm not quite as adept as I used to be."

She couldn't keep her gaze from turning to him, flickering over his form. He looked incredibly sharp with his tailored dark pinstriped suite and pants. A slash of a red tie cut through the black to disappear into his jacket. She looked at the black cane he held, gold handle gripped tight in his grasp. She thought back to his tale, of how he had once been an insecure man, and then a self-assured and malicious wielder of magic. She thought of him as he was now, almost like he was three different people. Now, he seemed more like a combination of the two from his other life, human, but still with the confidence of someone who had the power to do whatever he pleased. His use of sarcastic humor had lessened, seeming less mischievous and more bitter than ever before.

She looked up to catch him starring at her. Averting her eyes, she took another sip of her wine. What had bothered her the most about his tale was the very end. When he had found out from the Queen that Belle had thrown herself from the tower.

_Why would he believe her? _Rose had thought. _Why, of all the people in the world would he believe her?_

Before Henry had left the library, he had turned back to look at her, "I used to think that he was bad. But I can see why he acted the way he did. He was just afraid. If he was truly evil, than he wouldn't have regretted losing her." Then, Henry had given her a pointed look, again seeming much more knowledgeable than he should be, "Sometimes, people just need a second chance."

The information had been hard to take, but it certainly served as an explanation to the role that Regina had placed her in within this world. The scars on her wrists and on her body were a constant reminder for both of them as to how much power she had, but like the dreams Rose had had when she was imprisoned, the markings never felt real. She never tried to hide the scars or act as though she were ashamed of them, even though it frustrated her how people would look at her once they saw the pale lines on her skin.

"Yes," Rose answered, finally pulling her muddled thoughts together, "But as I recall, you were more adept to crashing celebrations than dancing in them."

When he didn't say anything, she looked over to see him smirking in amusement, "Social gatherings have never been my forte."

Despite everything, she couldn't help but smile at him, "Nor mine. I find I'm much more content with being at home with a book."

He smiled, "Yes, I do remember your fondness for them."

"I noticed you had quite a collection of them at your home."

He sighed, "Yes well, I do like to live in comfort."

She gave him a sly look, "Is that meant to impress me Mr. Gold?"

He raised an eyebrow, "On the contrary dearie, it's meant to intimidate you."

She grinned as she looked back out towards the gathering of people, "I'm afraid you lost that element of surprise when you asked me to skin children for their pelts."

He chuckled, not his usual maniacal laughter that she had grown used to in their last lives. "I told you dearie," He said, leaning forward, his voice low and husky, "It was just a quip."

Rose felt a shiver run up her spine, his breath barely brushing the bare skin of her shoulder. She looked at him and felt a sense of melancholy steal over her at their banter, she wanted to cry, she wanted to ask him questions. So many questions.

"Mr. Gold." Both he and Rose turned to see Regina walking towards them, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to steal Miss French away for a moment, there are some people that I would like to introduce her to. Can't have you monopolizing her time now can we?"

He nodded his head towards her, "Of course."

Regina led Rose away; the touch of the mayors hand on her lower back feeling a little more forceful than necessary. When she was introduced to David and his wife Kathryn, Rose felt herself falter. She knew who they were, but a sudden pain in her elbow made her realize that Regina was gripping her arm in obvious warning. Regina looked at her steadily, her features still set into a pleasant smile. Subtly, Rose pulled her arm from her grasp and smiled, explaining that her lapse in memory was due to the horrible car accident she experienced years ago, but assuring the couple that she did remember them. She looked over to Regina, her eyes heated and vibrant. Regina stared back at her, an unspoken challenge set between the two of them, a secret that they both were aware of but would never share.

...

Even from across the room Mr. Gold could feel the tension that the two women were trying to hide from the rest of the crowd.

"Interesting." He muttered to himself as he took a sip of his brandy. He had seen her instantly when he had entered the room. The image of her had completely robbed him of all thought. The royal blue dress complimented her creamy skin, her hair shined dark auburn in ringlets that curled over her shoulder and back. Her red pumps matched the color of her red lips. He had always been plagued by those lips. Even after he had thought her to be gone forever. He knew the bow shape of her mouth, how her lips would quirk into a smile at the smallest inclination. He knew how they stretched into a smile, how her whole face seemed to light up as he gray-blue eyes danced with merriment. Eyes that would appear gray one moment and then crystalline blue the next. He knew now, he should have never accepted the invitation to come. Regina was simply testing them, seeing how close they were and what she could do to drive them further apart then they already were.

He saw Rose talking to David and Kathryn, but then a young man joined the group, an introduction being made by Regina to Rose. Ever so subtly, Regina pulled David and his wife into conversation, leaving Rose to converse with the other gentleman. Mr. Gold felt himself tense when she laughed at something that was said. Her head slightly turning back, auburn hair drifting down her back. Mr. Gold gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to march over. He wasn't sure what he would do if he did. Tell the gentlemen that he had a claim on her; the she belonged to him and him alone. Taking a swing at the young man's lecherous face didn't sound too bad either. Taking a deep breath, Gold tampered down his emotions. Instead, he gripped his drink and swigged the rest of it down. _Enough_, he thought with a sense of weariness as he gently sat the cup down and walked out.

He couldn't stop thinking about her, thinking about how she had saved his life. He could not remember another person ever taking such a risk and not expecting something in return from him. He couldn't stop asking himself, if she had known this entire time that he was responsible for the curse, then why had she risked her life for him? He was responsible for the most atrocious event that had ever befallen on everyone she had ever known, and yet she had still bothered to save his life. Why would she do such a thing when she should hate him?

_Fool,_ He thought to himself, _You know why, you just won't believe it._

_..._

The rest of the night seemed to pass by in a blur. The gentlemen she spoke with for most of the night seemed nice enough, but her thoughts kept drifting to how Mr. Gold had left abruptly after Regina had guided her away. He had let her be led away, hadn't bothered to seek her out. She should have known better. He had never bothered fighting for her before, even before they had all been cursed, she was foolish to think that anything would be different in this world. Claiming that she felt fatigued, she went to leave. Outside the building she buttoned her jacket to ward off the chill.

"Hey." Rose looked up to see Emma walking out of the building with her own coat thrown over her dress shirt and slacks.

Rose smiled earnestly, glad to see a friend.

"Need a ride home?" Emma asked when she saw the same lost look in Rose's eyes that she had seen when Rose first left the ward.

She shook her head, "I wouldn't want to trouble you."

Emma waved off her concerns and motioned to her yellow Volkswagen parked on the other side of the street, not taking no for an answer. When they were in the car driving to Rose's home. Rose felt her mask slip, she was so tired of playing a part, acting like their was nothing wrong.

Emma didn't say anything, but she could sense that Rose was upset. She was trying too hard, holding back tears that she didn't want Emma to see.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." Rose said, her voice wavering as she looked out the passenger window.

Emma didn't say anything for a moment, knowing it wasn't any of her business. But her resolve to not ask anything soon gave way, "This wouldn't have anything to do with Mr. Gold would it?"

The question broke through Rose's mask, a floodgate of emotion overwhelmed her, "I hate him!" She burst out, tears flowing from her eyes. "I hate him so much." She said as she rubbed her tears away with angry swipes of her hand and tried to focus on the dark shapes passing by them outside her window.

"No," Rose said, retracting her outburst. "No, I hate her." Emma didn't feel the need to ask who she was talking about.

"I hate them both. These games that they play, I can't stand it. It's so exhausting. It's like there in a whole 'nother league from everyone else here, like they have their own little "club" and enjoy just manipulating and deceiving everyone around them just so they can have an advantage over the other." Her entire vent was accompanied with air quotes and angry gestures before she finally sighed in frustration and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Feel better?" Emma asked.

Rose pursed her lips, thinking. "Yes." She finally conceded as they pulled in front of her home.

Emma looked over to Rose, "Are you still in love with him?."

"What?" Rose asked, shocked and taken off guard. She made a quick recovery, but wouldn't meet Emma's eyes, "No, no I don't love him."

She seemed to be sincere, but Emma knew better. Emma's talent had never steered her wrong, and right now, she could tell that Rose wasn't telling the truth.

"How could I?" Rose found herself saying, "After everything he has done. What he did to my father. He never even bothered to find me, never bothered to get me out of that ward when I was alone. It was my father who saved me, not him."

"There's something you should know." Emma said, Rose looked over to her, tears still evident in her eyes, waiting to fall. "Henry was the one who found the files on the ward. I went to Mr. Gold because I thought he might know something. He swore us to never tell anyone so that Regina wouldn't find out."

Rose frowned, "What are you talking about?"

Emma told her, "Mr. Gold is the one who convinced your father to let you live with us after you were let out. He's the one who had all the paperwork signed so that Regina wouldn't have the power to put you back in solitary confinement."

Rose felt another wave of emotion rush over her, the breath she had been holding suddenly leaving her in a bemused sigh. She suddenly felt like a beat up punching bag from the onslaught of things that she was constantly learning about the man she had once loved, the one who had torn her heart out and never bothered to find her when he had thought her gone.

Rose rolled her eyes in complete bewilderment, looking up to the car ceiling as though there was something there that might help her. She realized that neither of them would ever be able to have a life here regardless of what he had done for her. He would never be with her because he would never want Regina to have the upper hand. And she could never be with him because she could not bear to go through the pain again.

_My power means more to me than you._

She shook her head, feeling helpless but not being able to stop a bitter smile from gracing her features, "Hate him." She whispered. Damn him. "Hate him." She figured that even after two lifetimes, she would always continue to be dumbstruck by the things he did. She could spend the rest of her life, and would probably be no closer to understanding him than she was now.

...

Rose shut the lights off and shut the doors behind her, locking the library securely. The sun was just setting, the golden light fading into a velvet twilight. It had been another several weeks since the gathering at the town hall. She hadn't seen Mr. Gold since, not even in passing.

"Miss French." She heard her name being called and turned to see the mayor catching up to her on her walk home.

"Madam Mayor," Rose said as she smiled. She expected to feel fear or anxiety whenever she met the Queen, but strangely, now she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"I wanted to see if perhaps you would be interested in attending another party," Regina said, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat, "Kathryn will be having one at her home in a few days and she wanted to know if you would be able to come."

Rose knew that that wasn't all; the Queen was watching her, trying to find out what she knew, what side she was on. In this world, you were either with the Regina or against her.

"I would love to," She forced herself to say.

Regina looked pleased. "I'm glad to see you on your own. Mr. Gold is not a good man to be associating with, and what he did to your father..."

"Yes." Rose answered, "I could never forgive him for what he did. I could never be with such a cowardly and monstrous man." She felt tears sting the back of her eyes. It still hurt her to say the words, but not in the way that the Mayor interpreted them.

Regina smiled in satisfaction, "I'm glad to here that." She paused before continuing, "That wasn't the only reason I wanted to speak with you. There's something else we need to discuss."

Rose felt her heart stutter, "What would that be?"

Regina leaned forward ever so slightly, "About how you remember your other life."

Rose gasped, her hand flying to her throat in panic.

Regina smirked as she slowly walked a bit closer, "I have every confidence in your discretion Miss French. That's not what concerns me. What concerns me is your connection with Mr. Gold. "

"I have just made a life for myself here." Rose explained, "I am not looking for a relationship with anyone at this point."

"Well, you see, that doesn't guarantee to me that you have no intention of ever being with him ever again." She paused, "Of course, I'd hate for you to meet another tragic accident, one that would entitle me to place you back into solitary confinement at the psychiatric ward."

Rose closed her eyes, letting the fear take hold of her, the terror of being locked away and isolated from everyone. She was sick and tired of being locked away. She let the fear fade away, and when she opened her eyes, the fear was gone. She knew now, knew without a doubt that the Queen was responsible for the reason why she had not been able to speak, why her nightmares had been a cross between this world and the other. Dreams of him hurting her, doing things to her that he had never done.

Rose tilted her chin up, refusing to back down now, "I will be a citizen here, I will respect you as the Mayor of this town. This is the life you have given me and I accept that, but as far as my decisions from here on out, as far as my personal life," Rose said pointedly, "That is no longer any of your business."

Regina raised an ebony eyebrow in amusement. "Tell me, one woman to another." She said with a malicious smile, "Was True Loves First Kiss everything you had hoped it to be?"

She felt it then, the rage and hate that she felt for this woman. It burned through her fear and left Rose with nothing but assurance and an unbreakable certainty. "You cast your hand when you laid the final step of the curse. I will fight for this life that I have, I'm not going to give it up." Rose said the words with total conviction. " But we both know that isn't who I am, in this life or in any other."

The mayor gave her a tight smile, "I'm sure I have no idea what your talking about."

"Of course not." Rose said, knowing that they were stepping back into their roles. At the same time, she couldn't help but questions as to how someone could be so bent on the unhappiness of others. Whatever had happened to this woman must have been truly horrible for her to be filled with such hate.

"I will tell no one, and I will not fight you on that account. I could never hurt Henry like that." Rose gave Regina a smile, a genuine smile, "He is a remarkable boy. That fact alone convinces me enough that there is a goodness in you. But as far as this life, I will make the best of it that I can."

Some strange emotion seemed to flicker in Regina's dark eyes before it was quashed by her usual malevolent personality; her lips set into a grim twist of a line, "Don't delude yourself, I can make your life just as miserable here as I did before. This isn't even close to being over."

"It is for me," Rose told her, "You can waste all the time that you like on trying to bring others down and make them unhappy, but I'm through with it. No one else is responsible for my happiness but myself. If you would even bother to look you would see that happy endings are not an impossibility here. They may be harder to come by, but they are real. Not even you can change that."

She saw the burnets eyes widen as Rose turned and stalked away. She felt a moment of uncertainty at what she had just said, afraid that perhaps she had revealed too much of what she knew. But then she realized that the reference was far too small for the Queen to make a sure connection that Rose knew anything about the spell or the origins of the curse. But there was one detail that bothered her, even now. When she had read the spell at the time, during her stay in Rumpelstiltskin's castle, the spell had only been partially finished; it had not been completed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part IV: Leave Your Hat On and Give Your Heart a Break**

When Rose got home she shut the door behind her and leaned against the cool wood surface, trying to calm her breathing. She had faced the Queen, and nothing more had happened. For the first time since being in this new world, she felt elated, relieved. She could finally see the possibilities of this new life, starting fresh and perhaps finally finding a content happiness that had eluded her in her last life. Women in this age were powerful, in control of their destiny. She no longer had to worry about arranged engagements, being put on display at dances where intellectual conversation took a backseat to fashion and wealth. In this life a woman with a mind was considered perfectly normal, and just the thought brought a smile to her lips. Rose took a deep breath, her nerves settling. She could be whatever she wanted to be here.

Settled on the thought, she went to her small kitchen down the hall. She sat her purse on the counter, when there was knock at the door. Frowning, and a bit wary, she went to the door, looking through the small peephole to see who it was. She felt the air in her lungs rush out of her, and for a moment, she hesitated, not making a sound.

"I know your home dearie. Open the door."

Rose bit her lip, slowly undoing the latch and bolt lock before she opened the door. Mr. Gold stood on the porch, looking up at her. Though still dressed impeccably in a dark suite, he didn't look well. He looked haggard, his usually sharp attire seeming not quite as put together as it used to be. He lifted a ringed finger from the handle of his cane.

"May I come in?" He asked her, expecting. Almost like a challenge.

Rose felt her anger return to her, giving her strength. Tilting her head up, she turned away from the door, letting him come in and shut the door behind him. He looked around her apartment, noticing the humble surroundings, the subtle tones of brown that made the place feel a little more like home.

"Was there something you wanted to discuss?" Rose asked as she got a mug out of the cupboard to make herself a cup of tea.

"No, nothing in particular," He told her, seeming a bit on edge, "I've been doing a lot of thinking."

Slamming the cup onto the counter, she turned her him. "Why did you do it?" She asked him. "Why did you even bother getting me out?"

Somewhat caught off guard by the question, Mr. Gold quickly recovered himself.

"Sorry," Gold said bitterly, not asking how she had found out about his involvement in her release. "I thought I was doing you a favor."

She glared up at him, her gray eyes lethal and stormy, "The only favor for me you've ever done was to benefit your conscience."

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. He hadn't meant to fight with her. He had set out to do something and he was already making a bungle of it. He hadn't been able to stand the last few weeks. He kept seeing her in his mind, in his thoughts. He kept seeing her, talking with other men. Laughing with them, allowing them to touch her. The thought had completely driven him mad. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stay away, nor could he seem to stop himself from becoming absolutely irritated with her.

"Belle," He said. That one word sounding both weary and impatient.

She finally looked at him then, really looked at him. His eyes intense on her face, but still unreadable.

A bit of time stretched between them, giving Rose a chance to think about what Emma had told her, what Henry had told her. "Why are you here?" She finally asked, barely above a whisper.

He hesitate,. "You see, I made a deal."

Rose felt her irritation spike. "That certainly isn't anything new" Rose asked, not looking at him again as she filled the mug with water and grabbing one of the tea bags from the box they came in. _When would she ever learn_? She thought to herself. Nothing about him had changed. He had never given her a chance to explain herself to him, never gave her a chance to be with him. Why did she continue to delude herself that in this life he would be any different.

"This is a deal that I have made with myself... a long time ago."

Trying to hide her interest, she looked over to him. "I have other things to do, I don't have time for your games."  
>She tried to sneak past him to grab her purse, but he grabbed her, and she found herself facing him, his brown eyes leveled with hers. He used to be taller than she when they had first known one another; it was strange how his bad leg changed him, made him seem more human.<p>

"I made a vow, that should I ever have the chance, I would find you." He said, his voice level, husky, "and I would never, ever, let you go."

The dark intent in his eyes, the possessiveness within his voice sent a shiver to run down her spine. At the same time, she felt her temper boil, "I'm not yours, I was never yours to begin with."

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Don't lie dearie."

She felt her cheeks warm, but she continued to look at him defiantly, "You didn't want me." She said, the words were hard to say, but she could see that they were as equally as hard for him to hear.

He knew he had hurt her, he knew that it would be an effort to get her back, but his feelings of frustration would still not abate at her stubbornness. He gritted his teeth, hesitant about what he was about to say.

"Alright, I'll make you a deal."

Sighing in disgust, she broke out of his hold and proceeded to walk away, "I'm sick and tired of your deals."

"Anything you want." He blurted, hating how vulnerable he was making himself, "I will do anything you want, as long as it gives me a chance to be with you."

She halted in her steps, slowly turning to him.

"It could take a measure of time, months...years." He nearly chocked on the last word, but he forced himself to go on, "As long as you want."

He couldn't read her expression, and he had this horrible feeling that he had just dug his own grave. She could string him along and then declare that she never wanted to see him again for the rest of this life. Perhaps she would simply use him and then leave him once she felt that his end of the bargain was met. He couldn't put anything past her or even blame her if she were treat him as such. There were too many loopholes in the contract and he cursed himself for not being more thorough.

Slowly, she walked over to him, smoothing her hands over the floral tiered peasant skirt she wore. The gesture reminded him of how she would usually do this if she were upset or nervous. "Anything?"

Rumpelstiltskin felt his mouth go dry, and he forced himself to swallow, "Anything."

She stood before him, placing one hand on the kitchen counter and leaning forward ever so slightly, "Tell me that you love me and mean every word."

He flinched as though he had been struck, and immediately, his frustration came back in full force.

"What?"

"Tell me..."

"I know what you said." He snapped, "I'm giving you the opportunity for anything."

"That's all I want." She said, waiting.

His face turned stony, "It makes no difference..."

"It makes a difference to me." She interjected, her eyes wide and expecting.

She had him in a corner, if he wasn't sincere then you could never say it. His feelings would be completely open, exposed and waiting to be hurt. She had yet to even tell him how she felt, it would be a bitter irony that he should be the first one to tell her how he felt without knowing that she felt the same way in return. He still had his doubts on whether or not she could ever even love him at all. How could she after everything he had done? The bargain was unstable, it was a risk. He couldn't even remember the last time he had taken one.

"Fine!" He growled, the words ripping through his throat. He grabbed her around the waist and she gasped as her body was pressed against his.

"I love you!" He hissed. Once the words were out, the anger, the pain of saying them, seemed to drain away, leaving him weak.

"I love you." He said when she simply stared at him, her eyes taking on that look she had had once their kiss had begun to break the curse, before he had rejected the curse from breaking. "I love you."

His cane clattered to the floor, his hand rising up to grip the back of her head, kissing her roughly. She kissed him back, there was no hesitation, no reservation. She was holding him tightly, her mouth moving over his, her lips reddening from the forceful contact of their mouths. This was nothing like the chaste kiss they had shared in the last world. This was heated, hungry, desperate. Belle felt heat pool in her stomach as she leaned into him, wanting more, needing more. They stumbled into the hallway, his back pressing to the wall, his hands running over her back, fervent, frantic as though she might suddenly disappear. He pushed back, her back now pressed to the opposite wall of the hallway. His hard body pressing into her soft curves, a groan escaping his throat as she opened her mouth to him, inviting, coaxing. As his tongue slipped into her mouth, stroking, her entire body shivered. Her fingers fluttered to the buttons of his jacket, suddenly shaking, nervous as she undid them. She hooked her thumbs on either side of the suite and eased it over his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He was wearing a black button up shirt, but she wanted to touch him, wanted to see him. Her fingers gripped the material, pulling the fabric from where it was tucked into his pants.

When he felt the cool touch of her hand on his stomach, he gasped, pulling away. He stayed her hands, nervousness tightening in his stomach, "What are you doing?"

She kissed his throat, breathing against his skin, "I'm through with waiting."

He felt fire scorch through his veins, burning through him. But he tried to tamper it down, he had to be rationale about this.

"We don't have to tonight. We can wait."

She looked up at him, clearly disgruntled, "Why?"

A burst of nervous laugher escaped him. He didn't know what to do, he felt like he should be more honorable, respect her. But truth be told, the only woman he had ever been with was Baelfire's mother. It had been awkward, nerve racking. She never had seemed to enjoy it so much, her body had been tense. She had always seemed distracted and uncomfortable.

Rose bit her lip, sensing some type of inner struggle he was having. She looked down, her cheeks reddening. Images flickered across her mind, images of people entwined, naked, caressing one another. When she had first discovered the exposure that television and the internet had provided, she had been shocked, mortified, always believing that such a thing was sacred and shouldn't be exploited so graphically. The only other side of it that she had ever known was that it was a marriage act that had to be endured. At the same time, Rose knew that things had changed. Women had more power here than she could ever conceive, and for the first time, that power wasn't condemned or looked down upon in society. It made her a woman.

"This is what I want." She looked up at him, her eyes serious, "I want you."

_You could have had happiness if you had just believed that someone could want you._ The words reverberated through him. She sensed it then, his usual mask of indifference beginning to slip back into place, but he was trying to not let it happen, trying not to reject her words. "I'm not as I once was," He told her, "I'm different here."

"That's true," She said, frowning as she reached up to touch the gray hair at his temples. "You're a bit more distinguished."

"That's a rather nice way of putting it dearie, but that's not what I meant."

Rose sighed in frustration. "I know." She said, still gripping the fabric of his shirt. She thought for a moment, what could she possibly do to convince him that she wanted him and no other?

"Nothing about you is simple." She told him honestly, "Even after everything that I have learned about you, all that I know, it only makes me want to know more. To discover every part of you, even the pieces of yourself that you hate so much."

He still looked skeptical, nervous. She kept thinking of how he had reacted before whenever he was scared, relying on his anger and sarcasm to hide any hurt or insecurity he felt. She remembered with vivid clarity how he had looked when he realized he was holding her in his arms, how he had nearly dropped her in his haste to let her go. He had tried to make the gesture seem like it was nothing in an effort to cover up how awkward he had felt about it. She remembered when he had offered her a rose, the carefree look he had given her as though his heart were not burdened by anything. When he had asked her to fetch straw from town.

_I expect I'll never see you again_.

How could she possibly ever explain how those moments had endeared him to her. She thought of all the people he had known, and all the people he had lost; the ones who had left him. How such hurt had made him reject her proclamation of love.

"This is just me," She told him, reassuring him in an effort to appease his nervousness. "I'm not going to leave you. I'm not going anywhere."

She swallowed nervously, her hands slightly trembling as she gripped the bottom of her white banded bottom blouse and slipped it up and over her head and let the garment fall to the floor, leaving her with only her nude bra that unclasped in the back. She didn't try to cover herself, wasn't trying to be modest or ashamed. A blush covered her face and neck as he looked at her, the sight of her stealing his breath away. When he made no move to touch her, she reached her hands up, unfastening the buttons of his dress shirt. Halfway through, she leaned forward, placing a kiss over his beating heart. She felt him shudder beneath her lips, and his reserve shattered. He reached his hands up, cradling her face as he kissed her. He ran his hands over her back, delighting in the soft warmth of her skin, groaning low in his throat when her body pressed to his.

They were suddenly in her room, he lifted his arms as she tugged his shirt up and over his head, not bothering to take the time to unbutton it more. He pulled on the strings of her peasant skirt while she went to work on his black leather belt, their lips still fused together. When the remaining articles of clothing were pooled on the floor by there feet, she looked up at him; grinning, eyes dark with lust and complete and utter happiness.

With a growl of pure possessiveness leaving his throat, he pulled her to him, his body shivering at the contact as he kissed her hungrily. They fell onto the bed, his nervousness stealing over him in an instant and then gone when he saw her looking up at him with neither fear or loathing, but with pure want and acceptance. He nudged her legs apart, heart hammering as he lowered himself into her. He stopped as soon as she tensed beneath him.

"What is it?"

She shook her head "No, it's nothing. Keep going, it will go away."

He frowned, "What are you..."

She sank her fingers into his hair, forcing him to look at her and her pure feminine frustration, "Don't you dare stop."

He smiled as she meshed her lips to his. Hating to deny her anything and yet still skeptical about hurting her, he rocked his hips against hers. A deep moan escaped from her throat, and her body started rising up to meet his, moving with him. He was nearly blinded by the pleasure of her body moving with his, never having felt anything like it before as she kissed him, ran her hands over him eagerly. She sighed as his rhythm quickened and she met him for each push. But then she did something that threw him off a bit. She pushed his shoulder, turning him over so that she was on top. At first he could only look at her as she stared down at him, biting her lip and smiling coyly as she started to ease her body over his, taking him inside herself. Rumpelstiltskin felt as though his eyes would roll back, the image of her riding him nearly finished him completely. She looked like a temptress, a fae set out to seduce him. Her body glowing in the dim light from the small lamp by the bedside, her dark hair falling over her face like a wayward nymph. He had never in any dream imagined that it would be like this, that it could be like this.

He leaned up, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her, relishing the feel of her body moving in his grasp as she took her pleasure from him. He touched her wherever he could reach, kissed whatever he could. Her breathing spiked as her movements quickened, grew more frantic, her breathing sawing in and out of her throat. He held her tight, moving with her as his heart pounded against his ribs. She suddenly went taut, a small whimper escaping her as she clutched him, her body trembling. Rumplstiltikin didn't have enough time to think about what had happened, in that instant, his own climax took him over the edge. He held her close, a guttural cry coming through his clenched teeth, his body shaking as it spent itself inside of her.

...

The next morning, Mr. Gold was getting dressed, grabbing his clothes and slipping them back on. Grabbing his shoes, he sat down on the edge of the bed to put them on. The shift of the bed caused Rose to waken.

"Where are you going?" Rose mumbled, her mind still foggy with sleep.

"There's something I have to do."

She was suddenly fully awake, fear and trepidation making it hard for her to breath. She suddenly had a horrible feeling that she could lose him. They were so fragile in this world, another car could lose control, another lifetime stolen when she had finally found him again. She knew what he was setting out to do. This was his chance to fight for her, and yet she found that she didn't want him to if it meant he could possibly get hurt. "No." She chocked, reaching out to him.

He saw her then, the look of terror in her eyes and he was beside her in an instant. He had noticed the scars last night, the ones that were not visible on the inside of her wrists. She had marks running down the right side of her back and over her thigh. Scars that could very well be from a car accident, or even from the torture of purification. That thought is what had sent him into action with the full intent of confronting Regina.

"You don't have to do this." She told him, "She never has to know."

He lifted up a hand to run a thumb over her cheekbone, "We can't hide this dearie." He felt his heart thud at the image she made, her hair rumpled and the sheets wrapped around her naked body. "I don't think I could even if I tried."

She sighed as well, leaning forward so that her forehead rested against his chest, "Nor I." She admitted. "But I cannot bear it...if something should happen to you."

A feeling of complete warmth settled into his stomach, here he was, trying to set his fear aside and fight for her; play the role of hero. And she was telling him not to. He knew that she had never seen the full extent of the curse he had created, it had not been finished when she had been staying with him, and he had not intended to ever finish it. It wasn't until he had found out that she had died, that he had lost her forever; that was when he had completed the curse. At that point, nothing else had mattered whether there was a world of happy endings or none. The worst ending he could have possibly imagined for himself had already happened. But now she was here, she was his. He would be damned if he ever allowed it to be otherwise.

He gripped her hands tightly in his, his eyes deadly serious, "Nothing is going to happen to me. I'm not going anywhere." He assured her, "I swear to you."

"I love you." She blurted, unable to keep the words from falling from her lips, "I love you."

He smiled, "I know dearie." He knew, and he believed her.

He kissed her then, fierce, quick, too quick, but she felt it. Felt the sincerity of his words. There was something he had to do, but his words felt powerful, binding them together. They would no longer live in fear over losing one another. Neither one of them had expected to have this second chance; they would fight to keep it.

...

Mr. Gold frowned, baffled and repulsed by what he had just heard. "You let her remember her other life?"

Regina smiled. They were in the main office of her home, she leaning against the front of her desk while he stood near the entrance of the room. "You caused her a worse life then I ever could come up with on my own. It seemed fitting that I should let her remember, letting her suffer with the knowledge that she had no idea what kind of life she had here, only thinking about the pain that you inflicted on her."

"Regina." He said, rage lacing the word, "Enough."

"I'm not even close to being finished." Regina said as she pushed away from the desk and circled to the other side, "I spoke with her last night, interesting girl, a bit odd. But she definitely has spirit. I can admire that in a woman. I see why you liked her, it's hard to hate someone so annoyingly naive. Always seeing the good in everyone. I plan on reintroducing her to her fiancé she had long ago. Figured I'll help her get a fresh start in this new life of hers. You don't mind do you?"

"No, not at all." Regina paused, looking at him and she felt her skin prickle with unease, he was smiling, really smiling. Not smirking.

"What?" She said, hating the feeling that she was missing something.

"Feel free to help her adjust as much as you like." He said coming closer, but his smile never faltered, "Although, you might want to rethink a few of you're tactics."

Regina paled and she looked him over as though seeing him for the first time as he leaned his hip against the front of her desk. "No." She growled.

"Yes." Mr. Gold shot back, grinning.

A look of repulsion marred her features, "With you?" She made a sound of disgust as she came back around to the front of the desk. "Poor thing, I would have thought she'd have better taste than that."

"Well, we all have our preferences."

"Don't get so cocky. This isn't some fantasy, the happy ending doesn't start just because you bedded the girl."

"No of course not, I think we both know that meaningless affairs, don't tend to work out as well as we had hoped."

She shifted, her posture like a lethal predator ready to spring, "Alright," She said tensely, "You might have won this one, but sooner or later it's all going to fall apart. All you've done is given me another opportunity to crush you under my heel."

"I wouldn't go that far Madam Mayor. I have something to protect, just as much as you do."

"What are you talking about?"

His look was patient, knowing. "I'm talking about your son, of course."

She straightened, instantly wary, "You have no power here."

"On the contrary Madam, I was the one who found him." He gave her a leveled look, "It would be a shame to let the authorities know what corners were cut in order for you to obtain him."

"You would just be hurting yourself. Your wealth, your status, all of that would be taken away from you." She said with self-assurance.

"Perhaps, but think about how many years it would then take for you to get Henry back. All that paperwork, every day allowing him to become older. Changing every day. Who knows, maybe while things are getting sorted out, someone else will be able to look after him."

The game was far from over, he knew that. She was furious, and for now, he had her in a corner. Neither of them would change, weather it was nine years or twenty-eight years. He had time, but she was tied to Henry. For now, they had an understanding. Henry and Belle were off limits, at least for the time being. That was all he really wanted. He knew she would protect what was hers, he knew that feeling all too well.

...

"You did what?" Mary asked in complete shock.

"Shush!" Rose hushed her as she looked around the diner. The moment she had walked in to meet Emma and Mary for lunch, she could do nothing to hide her happiness. Emma had all but looked at her, and the sheriff had given her a sly and knowing smile. It hadn't been long before Rose confessed what had happened.

Mary shook her head in bewilderment, hands placed flat on the table in front of her. "Will wonders never cease?" She whispered to no one in particular.

"What wonders?" Ruby asked, bringing over a pot of coffee.

Emma smirked as she scooped up a spoonful of clam chowder, "Rose has a boyfriend."

Rose wrinkled her nose, "Is that what he would be called now?"

"Sounds more like a lover." Ruby said.

"Have you guys even been on a date yet?" Mary asked.

Rose leaned back in her seat, unsure how things were going to be once Gold had spoken to Regina. Would they be able to have some peace or would Regina make sure that they could never have happiness? What would she do in order for them to not be together? The questions suddenly disintegrated, she found that she no longer cared what Regina did, or how she wasted her time in planning other people's destruction. They had found each other in two lifetimes, they would find each other again if they had to.

"Ahem," Ruby said, "First things first, whose the guy?"

Rose grinned mischievously.

"Mr. Gold." Emma supplied.

"Gold!" Ruby sputtered, nearly spilling the pot of coffee.

"Shush!" The three women told the promiscuous waitress.

"No way, I can't believe it." Ruby said a bit more quietly, "I mean, is he even a good lover?"

"Ruby!" Mary admonished as Rose felt her face turn bright red.

"Dammit," Ruby sighed when she saw Rose's reaction, "The man is filthy rich and he's a closet Casanova. I wish I would have thought of that sooner."

Rose gave the waitress a leveled look and Ruby raised her hand in surrender, "Don't worry, the guy still gives me the creeps. He's all yours."

There was a sound of disgust that came from one of the other tables and all four of them turned to look at Dr. Whale get up from his seat and throw down a tip atop of a folded newspaper.

"You got something to say?" Ruby said haughtily.

"I'm not ashamed to say it. Mr. Gold is a cold, ruthless excuse for a human being. Anyone who associates with him can't be much better." Dr. Whale said, giving them each a leveled look, his eyes momentarily fastening on Rose in condemnation. Rose met his gaze, refusing to back down. She had known that the judgment of others would be unavoidable because of her relationship with one of the most hated men in town, but she found that she no longer cared what other people thought, she never had.

"Dr. Whale." Gold said from behind the doctor, who turned around and suddenly looked a bit pale.

Gold gave him a cold smile, "Don't you owe me something?"

The doctor swallowed, "I promised you, I'll have the payment for the supplies back to you by next week."

"Good," Gold said, "See that you do."

He looked over to Rose, not even sparing a glance for the other ladies. He turned to the side, "Shall we my dear."

Exchanging a glance and a smile with Emma, Rose got up and wrapped her hand into the crook of his elbow that he had offered.

"You really shouldn't scare people like that." Rose admonished half-heartedly.

He smirked as they walked out of the diner, "It's what I do dearie. I see that you wasted no time in letting your friends know about us."

She gave him an unsure look as they walked along the sidewalk, "Are you terribly angry about that?"

He smiled at her reassuringly, "Not at all, though I do have one question."

They stopped for a moment at the sidewalk corner, his voice low, "What did you mean, with what you said last night. You seemed to have known something that I didn't."

Rose felt her face flush, she ducked her head a bit but did not hesitate in her answer, "Well, when one is curious about certain things, there are many recourses to find answers." She said matter-of-factly, as though they were talking about nothing more than the weather.

"I might have had certain expectation about what would happen." Rose explained, a blush rising into her cheeks, "Considering I have never been with anyone else."

His eyes widened, before a smile slowly spread over his mouth, an eyebrow lifting up, reminding her more of the side of him that was untamed and consisting of pure mischief. The look in his eyes was enough to cause her heart to pound within her chest.

"Well, then." He said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. "Perhaps I will have to accommodate and teach you a few things that you may not have learned."

She found herself trying to catch her breath, "I suppose we have all the time in the world for that."

"We could have forever." He offered her.

"Forever," She said, loving the sound of the word. How permanent it sounded, binding. Being bound to this man who had many layers, and who would always be a mystery to her.

"I like the sound of that." She admitted as he kissed her. She didn't delude herself that there would be many challenges ahead of them. The Evil Queen and her curse only being one of them. But for now, they were together. This was their second chance and that was more than she could have ever had hoped for.


End file.
